


Way down we go

by MurderOfCrowss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Kidnapping, More tags to follow., Non-Consensual Drug Use, Older Man/Younger Woman, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Psychiatrist/Patient - Freeform, Psychological Horror, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderOfCrowss/pseuds/MurderOfCrowss
Summary: No one believes that Rey was assaulted by a stranger in the night, a monstrous alpha who always seems to be hunting her from the shadows. Perhaps because the security tapes from outside her dorm room revealed no intruders. Perhaps because her mother had once been prone to such paranoid delusions herself. Plagued by long nights of insomnia and desperate to avoid failing out of college, Rey accepts the pro bono services of Dr. Ben Solo, a local psychiatrist whose alternative methods seem strange to her at first, but miraculously begin to work.Dr. Solo doesn’t present the nightmarish image of an alpha that Rey would ordinarily recoil from, and the pills he provides her with allow her to rest for the first time since the attack. But as they continue their sessions together, as Rey finds herself further and further isolated from her family and friends, as she is drawn inexplicably to the ever-nearing monster in her dreams, she begins to question if the man who brought her back from the edge has her best interests at heart.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 100
Kudos: 301





	1. Chapter 1

The ground was a blur under my feet. I knew the trails; that might save me. I could hear him. Twigs snapped. His breath was loud. Like a bull. The sun patterned the sky in varying shades of pink. Five minutes ago, I’d been staring at it in awe as I jogged. I always ran the trails in the morning, because they were empty. Because I was alone.

If I made it out of this today, I promised I’d never make that mistake again. 

I veered left when I saw one of the side trails. This might have been a bad move. It took me off the main trail, but it was windier, diverging several times into smaller trails, unpredictable.

My advantage: I knew every inch of this place like the back of my hand. Already I was formulating a plan. A place to hide. I just needed to reach it. 

Trees full of sap stood like giants; they were dropping pinecones, which scattered the path and crunched under my feet like popcorn. It was a windless day and birch trees heavy with fall colors shaded the ground. It made the hour seem later as I ran further and further into shadow. 

My brown university sweater and gray shorts would blend in better here. Normally I wore bright yellows and greens for safety, but today the weather had a bite to it, so I’d gone for warmth and comfort. Who knew such a rash choice might save my life? I braved a glance over my shoulder. I didn’t see him. 

When he’d grabbed me, trying to take me down quickly, I had managed a vicious punch to his kidney. The pain was enough that he’d gagged and let go. This had given me a precious minute’s head start. I couldn’t waste it.

The sound of water let me know I was getting close. 

He was having trouble following me. Sound traveled in the forest, and I heard him curse as if in pain. This wasn’t a smooth path like the flat trail we had left. There were grooves and roots. A person could easily break an ankle if they weren't looking.

A white sign was ahead. As much as I wished he could get lost, it was almost impossible. This state park was the largest in Montana, and to avoid any boy scouts or nature enthusiasts losing their way, they’d put “you are here” maps up everywhere. 

I didn’t need the map to tell me to turn left. I knew I was taking a risk—this was a dead end. The place where I thought I could lose him was a quarter mile down the trail. It didn’t seem like much, but if he caught up, I’d never outrun him. Adrenaline pushed me forward and I let memory guide my steps, hoping to god I didn’t fall.

A wooden post with ducks carved into it indicated I’d arrived at my destination. 

Mallard Pond.

The large body of water was the size of a football field, and the trail stopped at a park bench. The foliage was too thick around it for joggers to find a path. I saw a few birds on the water and headed for the place where I knew a tree had fallen, and the embankment was high. 

Silence was my friend. I couldn’t hear him anymore. If he’d gone right, he would be headed for a five-mile detour that looped back around to the park’s entrance. I sloshed into the water, heading for cover. Thorns tore at my face, arms, and bare legs as I kept to the embankment. 

From the park bench it wouldn’t be easy to spot me, and if he did, he would have a hell of a time getting me out.

The water was freezing. I shivered, trying to keep my teeth from chattering as I sunk waist-deep under a cover of bramble that shaded my spot. I found the darkest area and hunkered down. Bugs swarmed, so small they were barely dots, and a frog jumped out from the base of the fallen tree when I came too close.

My heart beat in my ears. 

Once I’d stopped running, the fear hit me. My vision became spotted, and I realized I was holding my breath. When I breathed in, the sound was loud. I was afraid that wherever he was, he could hear it. I made myself take shallow breaths, searching as far as I could see for any sign of him. 

How could I not have known? 

Every appointment on Tuesday and Thursday. Talking to him for that one hour of allotted time. I’d sent him text messages, kept a dream journal at his request, allowed him to use alternative methods on me. He made me believe my monster was a figment of my imagination. Convinced me to tell the cops I’d had a mental breakdown. 

A movement in the grass made me look right, but it was just a squirrel darting into a tree.

I listened. 

A fish jumped, creating ripples. One of the ducks half rose, flapping its wings. I dipped lower into the water, wondering how long I could hold my breath if I needed to. Dead leaves clung to my neck. My shoes slipped on the slime-covered rocks, making me grasp an overhanging branch that was partially submerged for balance.

I used to think he could read my thoughts. No matter how hard I tried, he always knew when I lied, when I had a secret, or when I had a boyfriend. No matter what I said to him, I always had the distinct notion that he already knew. I chalked it up to his impressive academic background. However, this time, I thought I may have outsmarted him.

He was a shrink, not a naturalist.

Minutes passed. 

I had hope, so much hope. 

But in the end, it was all part of the game. 

His game.

“Rey.”

I looked up. 

His black hair was matted to his face, the only sign that chasing me had caused him any distress. He towered over me from the top of the embankment. 

We stared at each other for a long moment. 

It had been the glasses, and the hair tied back. The clean-cut look and the English accent. Smoke and mirrors. The office with dim lighting. Ambient music and a soothing voice.

“Ben—” I paused. No, it wasn’t Dr. Ben Solo, my psychiatrist, looking down at me. “You’re a monster.” 

The mask dropped, and for the first time I saw his true face.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

His grin grew and grew and grew. 

Without urgency, he took off his Rolex. Then his jacket, folding it neatly. My feet backpedaled until I was deep enough that I had to tread water to move farther away. I could tell he was watching me from the corner of his eye.

He removed his shoes next, setting them on the shore. I kicked my feet frantically, trying to increase the distance. The ducks finally took notice and made honking noises, irritated. One flew off. I envied its escape.

Last he pulled out his wallet and keys. I tried to tread faster, swallowing pond water. He tsked when I bobbed up and down under the surface once. I snorted water and coughed. I wanted to turn and make a break for shore. I would never make it. I knew that. He knew that.

“You’re mistaken about who I am,” he said, touching the top button of his dress shirt. “Kylo Ren, your monster, is very much alive.” 

I froze. 

The shirt opened. I saw the circular mark on his neck. The scar. He was the alpha. The one I’d convinced myself wasn’t real. 

When I met his eyes, I knew, but he told me anyway.

“There never was a Ben Solo.”

  
  


.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos. Slow chapter sorry. Rest should have a lot more angst/action/smut.

**Four weeks before.**

The streetlamp illuminated the small corner lot where Dr. Ben Solo’s office was located. It was a storybook house, with stone steps that led up to a wraparound porch. I assumed he lived upstairs, for the two-story building looked more like a home than an office.

The hour was late, but normal business slots were booked solid for the next six months. Seven thirty in the evening was when Dr. Solo said his wife took her evening tea and went to bed. Married with no children, he offered his services pro bono as part of an agreement he’d made with the state to fill his contractual obligation.

I tried not to feel guilty for accepting charity, but I was barely making it as a college student—I was about to fail out. I needed help. The college had a three-session counseling agreement worked out with community therapists. You put your name in a hat, and someone took pity on you and pulled it out.

When the offer came in the mail, I was shocked to see that a licensed psychiatrist was willing to see me. The enclosed form had me fill out a few details about myself. It included the address, time, and a small handwritten note. Dr. Solo had taken an interest in my unique situation and was willing to see me twice a week until his services were no longer required.

I noticed his lawn wasn’t perfect. There were bald spots in the grass and dandelions were everywhere. The porch needed a good sweep; leaves gathered in clumps where the wind had blown them together.

A sign on the door said to use the brass knocker. I did, rapping once. After a second, I heard him. The house creaked with his approaching footsteps. I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. There had been rules on the form he’d mailed me. No perfumes, no touching (handshakes or fist bumps) no food or beverages. Coffee, tea, and bottled water would be provided.

My clothing was borrowed. My best friend, Rose, had lent me a nice summer dress. It was conservative, the hem below my knee. The buckle of my left shoe was undone. I bent down to fix it.

The door swung open.

I glanced up and my fingers froze on the buckle. Dr. Solo wasn’t what I had expected. 

Rose’s mother, Daisy Tico, must have been mistaken; she’d heard me mention the address while picking up her daughter and offhandedly commented that she’d visited him once before her divorce. Her description of him had been “a serious old man with glasses.” 

This man couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. Bland facial features, neither handsome nor memorable. 

“Ms. Niima?”

The accent was English. Polite. I almost shook his hand when I stood up, but remembered the rules.

“Thanks for seeing me.” 

His suit was a tad over the top. It reminded me of the suit the funeral director had worn when I’d picked out my guardian Unkar Plutt’s casket two weeks ago. Stiff, formal black jacket with a red shirt and black tie. The other curiosity: he wore leather gloves. _Germaphobe?_

“Please, come in.”

After he had me take my shoes off, I followed him inside. The hall light wasn’t turned on, just a few small lamps on tables. Music hummed overhead, piano. I glanced at the walls and found artwork of skyscrapers, the Statue of Liberty, and the Washington Monument.

_He must love to travel._

We didn’t go far into the house. There was a door on the left, and he opened it. The room looked standard. A bookshelf rested behind a desk and chair. A tarnished gold dusted recliner mirrored a matching love seat. 

With a wave of his hand, he indicated I take the loveseat. 

I tucked my dress and sat. The material was cool against the bare backs of my calves. Nervous, I put my purse in my lap and clutched it, needing something to hold on to. He surveyed the room as if deciding between the desk and the chair. In the end, he chose the chair.

The chair groaned under his weight and he scooted back. His arms shifted a bit, trying to find a comfortable position. Finally, he crossed one leg over the other and rested his gloved hands across his knee. Studying me. I thought it odd. I’d assumed he’d have a clipboard and pen.

I waited for him to start, my back and shoulders rigid as I kept perfect posture. My eyes wandered to his bookshelf. The titles I could see were clinical textbooks, but a few of them were about aviation. A model Piper airplane sat on the desk.

“Do you fly?” I asked.

He looked puzzled until he followed my gaze. His lips twitched up. “Yes. Whenever I’m not hunting.”

“Unkar liked to hunt rabbits,” I said, trying to think of something to say.

“Your guardian,” he said. 

“Yes. He gained custody of me when I was five.” I kept my tone nonchalant.

“I know you’re here to see me about the attack, but would you like to talk about him first? His death must have exacerbated the trauma.”

“Um...We...I hadn’t seen him in years.”

“Estranged?”

My shoulders sagged. “You could say that.” 

I didn’t add more. Didn’t tell him he’d kept me for my mom’s social security check, or that at eighteen, when they’d stopped coming in, he’d made my life miserable until I moved out.

“We can always revisit it, if we need to,” he said, kindly. “School. You're in your second year.”

“Yes.”

“How were you doing before the incident?”

“Good. Really good,” I said, thinking of my perfect GPA. “Right now, it's the only reason my professors are making allowances for me.”

I had been the model student. Never partied, always showed up five minutes early. The decline had been dramatic; each one of my professors had reached out to see what had gone wrong. Now I was on probation when I should have been expelled.

“What are your aspirations?”

“Nursing.”

“An excellent profession. Was your mother a nurse?”

The question surprised me. I barely talked about my mom. I wasn’t sure I could now. “Nurse’s aide.”

When I didn’t give further details, his fingers tapped. It was hard not to stare at them.

“I can already tell this is a hard topic. We’ll need to visit that eventually, but today, let's keep it simple.”

I nodded.

“You marked that you haven’t been sleeping, lost weight, and had to up your dose of suppressants.” 

“Yes. I tried over the counter medications, but they don’t work and the lingering effect makes it so I can’t concentrate during my classes.”

“And the suppressants?”

“Just to be safe. I-I don’t want to go into heat.”

“Being an omega must have its own stressors.”

I glanced at him. He was an alpha, but I hadn’t minded because he was married. With medication and a mate, they lost almost all their edge, all that made them dangerous at times. 

“I manage. Plus, I’m twenty.” I shrugged. “If I show I can support myself at twenty-five, they’ll let me do the surgery.”

“Removing the gland, that’s a controversial surgery.”

“I don’t want the alternative.”

He studied me. Alpha men were biologically attracted to omegas. Up until twenty years ago, society had allowed alphas to choose a mate during rut, if she was of legal age. Illegal now. But the old laws were still slowly catching up to the modern world, and “he said, she said” didn't matter once the bond had set. However, unless a female cycled, her gland couldn’t be accessed; most omegas took suppressants for this reason. 

“Nursing will give you financial stability,” he conceded. “Let’s spend this session having you tell me everything about yourself. Small details. Favorite color, favorite food...We’ll tackle the elephant in the room on Thursday.”

“I need to sleep,” I said, nervous. “Please.”

I had dark shadows under my eyes that no amount of makeup could hide. My energy pills were giving me dry mouth and tremors. Three to four restless hours were not going to cut it for much longer.

“I’ll give you a sample pack. It’s a new drug. Barely on the market, but showing promise.” He smoothed a wrinkle on his slacks. “Few side effects, but nothing to worry about.”

My relief was so great, I lost my rigidness and slumped back into the seat. 

His amber eyes flickered to my dress, his lips twitched down. “Sorry for bringing this up, but there’s a faint perfume on your clothes.”

_Shit._ “Sorry, not my dress.” I hadn’t noticed any smell, but Rose used a floral perfume from time to time to mask her omega scent.

“Is it Rose’s?” he asked, and before I could wonder how he would know that, he added, “You listed her as your only family.”

“She is. We met at summer camp in the eighth grade. Like sisters, I guess.” Though I probably felt that way more than she did. “She’s out camping now, actually. Well, ‘glamping.’ Glamour camping at Yellowstone. She’s in this huge motorhome with her mom.” My eyes lit up. “Daisy Tico, she said she knew you.”

He cleared his throat. “I can’t talk about other clients.”

“Oh.” I should have known that.

“No worries. Now, let’s spend this time getting comfortable with each other.”

He let me talk for a while, but at eight thirty, his watch beeped. 

“Sorry. Next time, we’ll continue where we left off.”

The hour had gone by so quickly. I stood, feeling a bit better. I’d expected him to write me a script. Instead, he pulled a pill bottle from his jacket pocket. Two pills rested on the bottom.

“Take them at bedtime with water. Don’t worry if you start to feel fuzzy. That’s normal. Don’t drive and don’t drink with them.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. I don’t drink.”

“Never?” 

The hairs of my neck rose at the way he said the word. As if he knew I’d lied. I had, once. But hardly enough to get drunk on, or even buzzed. So little I hadn’t even mentioned it to the police officers who took my report.

“Never.” I kept my lie. It didn’t matter. I wanted the police to take me seriously. I wanted Dr. Solo to take me seriously. It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t crazy.

He handed me the pill bottle and said no more.

#

I stared at the white pill. There wasn’t a number on it. Nothing to look up. I’d forgotten to ask the name. I’d been so excited just to get something. It seemed incredibly foolish of me to forget such an important detail. But the thought of sleeping, really sleeping, was too big a temptation. I took it with water.

Fuzzy was an understatement. 

Five minutes later, I barely stumbled to my bed from the bathroom. I pulled back the covers and slid under. I needed to rest. I needed the sick feelings that wormed in the pit of my stomach to go away. _Please work_ was my last thought.

I woke once. Groggy. I was on the floor. _Why was I on the floor?_ Heat surrounded me, pressing against my back. It felt nice. For the first time, the tension in my body was gone. I heard a rumble. Calming. I tried to lift my head, but it felt too heavy.

I slept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys again for the comments and kudos.

Thursday came quickly.

I sat on the couch. He was dressed in the same suit. I, however, had worn my nicest long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He offered me a cup of apple cider. My favorite. I couldn’t remember if I had told him that in our talk. I thought so.

Two days of rest, and other than waking up on the floor with my blankets bundled around me, I felt better. I’d even managed to make up a major English assignment. My spirits were higher than they had been in three weeks.

“What did you give me?” I asked after we sat down, feeling sheepish. “I called the office, your secretary didn’t know who I was.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He brushed off an invisible piece of dirt from the end of one of his armrests. 

“I don’t have you in the computer system. It’s no surprise she didn’t know. I’ll give you my cell phone number. Please call it if you have questions or concerns. It accepts text messages as well if that will be easier.”

“Oh, that’s really nice. I appreciate how much you’ve done. I wouldn’t abuse that hospitality.” 

“I’ll admit, the nature of your case has piqued my interest.” He took his glasses off, examining a speck on the lens before breathing on them to fog the glass. He used his dress shirt to clean them.

“I will do everything in my power to help you find a resolution. I wouldn’t mind putting a paper together on it.” His gloved hands pulled out a card from an inner pocket. It was black with red lettering. “Names, age, and any identifiers would be erased. It could help other patients in your shoes, if I published a study.”

“Oh, so you don’t believe me.” I didn’t take the card, fighting back a wave of hopelessness.

“Rey.” His use of my first name made me look up. It felt slightly intimate. “Truth is all I’m looking for, no matter where that leads.”

I took the card. It had on it his name and a phone number. Nothing more. I put it in my purse, trying to pretend like I wasn’t near tears. A box of tissues rested on the coffee table. He reached over and handed it to me.

“Sorry.” I plucked several sheets. “It’s just, this is ruining my life.”

He gave me a minute to collect myself. I kept the Kleenex clutched in my lap. I rarely cried. I could thank Unkar for that. He used to beat me if I even simpered.

“Why don’t we start? Do you feel like you can tell me what happened?”

I nodded. I’d stopped asking “why me?” a long time ago. Another thank you to my shitty childhood. I’d developed the crippling disability of not being able to sweep it under the rug and move on. 

“Rose asked me to pick her up from a party,” I admitted, eyeing him warily.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality. Nothing you say can incriminate you or get one of your colleagues expelled.”

The cop had told me the same thing. I’d lied to him about Rose calling me, so the people at the party wouldn’t know she was involved. But with Dr. Solo, I wanted him to believe me. 

“She’d had too much to drink. There were some alphas at the party. Getting rowdy. She and the other omegas needed to leave.” I’d told her never to go to an unchaperoned party where alphas congregated. Sometimes with too many around, something that mimicked rut happened. Juvenile males increased that chance. Still, college. Rose couldn’t resist.

“You couldn’t just pull up to the driveway, the dig was at a lake house. I had to park and find her.” I chewed my lip. All of this had been documented on the police report. “Rose and two other girls were being harassed by some boys.” 

“Alphas,” he corrected me. “I am one, but don’t spare words on my account. I know how they can get.”

The next part had almost gotten me in legal trouble, but alphas had lots of pride, and none wanted to press charges on an omega who’d gotten the upper hand.

“I keep pepper spray on me. I gave them a warning.” 

I had, that was the truth, and one had actually made half an attempt to attack me when I’d doused him. 

“It kind of worked. I had to knee one in the groin. The other I managed to knock down.”

“It was impressive,” he said. I met his gaze and he cleared his throat. “I read the police report. Those were members of the football team, yes? Big wolves, so to speak. Not a scratch on you.”

“I grew up in a bad neighborhood, inner-city district of Jakku.” 

The name of the city alone should have explained much. In Jakku, if you didn’t learn how to fight or hold your own, bad things tended to find you. The alphas at the lake house were rich boys with god complexes; none of them had expected resistance.

“You left the party with Rose?”

“She was pretty shaken up.” The image of Rose flashed in my mind. Her tear-streaked face, torn shirt, and puffy lip where one of the boys had forcefully kissed her. “I took her to her mom’s.” 

“You went home?”

The memory was sharp. I’d been shaking so bad, I drank a half a glass of wine at Rose’s house. It helped, and I left. I’d had a paper due in the morning. The perfectionist in me had wanted to look over it one last time. My entire life could have been different had I stayed the night. It was a rabbit hole that was bottomless. I moved away from it.

“I did. I took a shower, looked over a research paper and went to bed. When I woke, he was there.”

Dr. Solo pulled lightly at his tie, loosening it. “Did you get a good look at him?”

“No.” The memory of waking to the scent of him, before even seeing him. Rut. So strong it had made my flesh break out in goosebumps. I’d known I was in danger before spotting him in the shadows. “He was tall, and I think he had shaggy hair.”

“You can stop at any time if this becomes too much.” His fingers trailed down his bright red tie, straightening it. “This is your safe place.”

“I tried to scream, but he moved quickly. And then I couldn’t.” My attacker had come prepared. I’d been gagged with thick cloth and handcuffed before I could think to roll out of bed. “I wasn’t in heat. But he gave me a shot and…” 

I clenched my fist. It still made me angry.

“The police told me some college kid getting his hands on a drug powerful enough to bring on a sudden heat was preposterous, and even if he could, they’d tested my blood. Estrym, the only clinical one on the market, wasn’t in my system.”

“In a true heat, you’d have accepted the role of an omega.” His voice sounded deeper. “You wouldn’t have been able to refuse him.”

My cheeks burned. The shot had taken several minutes to work. At first, I’d bucked against him, ignoring the way he’d shushed me. He never said words, never talked. Just let me wear myself out. It had been terrible when the cramps came. He’d known how to stimulate me. Make my slick come faster.

“It wasn’t my first heat. Once before, when I first presented omega. This was worse. I begged him for relief.” 

The admission made me look at the door out of our study. I suddenly wanted to flee. Remembering that I’d simpered, begged him, pleaded. He’d taken the gag out, the handcuffs off. I never once tried to escape, except at the end.

“Keep going.” His voice dropped. The words were almost an alpha voice. I paused, but his face was expressionless.

“He only spoke to me once. Told me his name. Kylo. Kylo Ren.” Even saying it now made my stomach clench. “I had to say it if I wanted to…”

“Having an orgasm doesn’t make you complicit.” He met my gaze. “Don’t be ashamed. Your body would have demanded it. I believe that was the point of putting you in a forced heat. Not for his pleasure, but for yours.”

I’d never thought of it that way. I’d originally thought the shot had been to make me compliant, or shame me.

“He never lost control. Not once.”

“Are you sure?” 

His expression hadn’t changed. But the question made me reflect. 

Kylo had knotted me. I’d never felt anything so wonderful. I’d felt him shudder, felt him turn my neck slightly. I knew what was coming. I’d wanted the irrevocable bond at the time. But I’d asked him to stop.

“I made a single request. It made him stop.”

He’d held off. The teeth never sank in. I’d turned to him without looking up. 

“The officer who took my statement said he’d never heard of an alpha in rut who would have allowed me to take control. I think that’s part of why they didn’t believe me.”

“You bit him first.”

I nodded. “I think the drug had started wearing off, because a few minutes later, I could think rationally. I hit him pretty hard. We fought. I don’t think he expected it. But he pushed me down into the pillow to muffle my screams.” 

The dark room had made him all shadowy limbs and a swirl of movements in the blankets. We hadn’t completed the bond. “I felt his mouth on my neck. Whatever he gave me must have left my system entirely. He cursed. I don’t think he could bite me.”

I rubbed my neck absently. 

“At the time, I thought he meant to kill me. He wrapped a hand around my throat and pushed on my jugular. I blacked out quickly.” I sighed. “I woke up and it was morning. I called the police.”

Dr. Solo stood up. Instead of looking at me, he went to his bookshelf, skimming the titles. “For this session, let's accept it as a fact and not a question. Would that help?”

“Okay.”

He pulled out a large textbook. Maybe he was looking for something; I didn’t know. It looked random, the way he opened it.

“If you woke in the morning, he would have had time to tidy up. Dispose of evidence. Clean up the room.”

“Yes.” This wasn’t a revelation. I’d told the cop as much. “But the cameras showed nothing.”

“Was there a window?”

“No,” I huffed, angry. 

“You exited the room right away?”

“Yes.”

“Went to the hospital?”

“They told me to go there first. Protocol.”

“Police visited you there first?”

“Yes.”

“Took hours before they searched your dorm room?”

“The dean closed it off pending the investigation”

“Did he?” Dr. Solo turned to look at me. He shut the book and put it away.

“Yes.”

“Is your bed off the ground?”

“Yeah, kind of,” I said, puzzled.

He didn’t reply, but opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a pill bottle. “How did you sleep? Did the medication help? Would you like to continue them?”

“They were great,” I said honestly. 

“Expensive stuff. I hope you don’t mind, but I notice you don’t have insurance. This should be a week’s supply.”

“Thanks.” I hoped this was ethical. I honestly needed them. I felt myself again. Like I had a chance to get better.

“Text me with any issues you have. Will your friend Rose be back soon?”

“Saturday.”

“Very good.”

His watch went off, indicating our time was over. He walked me to the front door once again. I said goodbye, then paused, my hand on the banister. 

“Why did you ask about the bed?” 

I couldn’t think of why it was important. The door was partially open, and the dim lighting behind him created an almost halo-like effect around him. 

“Oh, just the detective in me. Forgive me. It’s nothing.”

“Please. Just tell me.”

His expression changed to one of deep consideration, as if weighing the pros and cons of answering. “It’s just that I wondered, before you fled the room—did you check under the bed?”

I froze.

“No matter,” he said with a small smile. “Unlikely. Cameras and all. He would have had to time it perfectly. Forget I said it.”

I swallowed, nodding. The cameras recorded constantly and deleted their footage every twelve hours. The dean had managed to save the twelve hours when I’d been in my room. But had anyone checked the tapes afterward? Who would have looked after the room was sealed?

The door clicked shut. 

I walked to my car, trying to convince myself that a large man couldn’t have hidden under my twin bed. As I slid behind the wheel of my car, it also occurred to me that he still hadn’t told me the name of my meds.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for comments and kudos. Sorry about the wait. I had someone edit and proof the entire story and I didn't want to post until I received it back. There is small changes in the first three chapters. Not enough to effect the plot, but if you read it again you would notice a few things. 
> 
> I will post the finale on Thursday night.
> 
> This chapter has non con rape. Please do not read if this triggers you.

The pills worked. 

My grades improved. I spent the weekend catching up. My professors greeted me cheerily in class, and I couldn’t help but feel like a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I chalked it all up to lack of sleep. The anxiety. The searching over my shoulder for my attacker. If I’d really bitten an alpha, I’d feel him on a biological level. I’d have to have constant contact until the bond was completed.

Not that the cops believed anything after the party part of my story. No one went to that much trouble for an omega. They did check every alpha on campus though. No one had fresh bite marks on them. It made me an outcast at school. The boys hadn’t been happy about being interrogated and everyone thought I was trying to get attention.

Still, I wasn’t in school for the popularity contest, and I didn’t mind the wide berth they now gave me.

Rose had texted me. She and her mom were sick. They were getting checked out to see if they’d picked up some kind of parasite from the river where they’d kayaked. She’d be back Monday, maybe Tuesday. I missed her, but at least she didn’t have to deal with my weird ass. I kept waking up on the floor. 

My attack had been four weeks ago, and it was already starting to feel like another life. I had the dean put a lock on my door, but there wasn’t much else to be done. I had to move on. With luck, my attacker was long gone. It was difficult not to think about it on occasion, but as time went on, I began to think that maybe it was all a terrible dream. 

#

“You look healthy, Ms. Niima. There’s a nice glow to your cheeks,” Dr. Solo said, handing me a bottle of water.

I took it, biting back a question about his suit. It still hadn’t changed. He relaxed in his seat and watched me take a sip.

“How’s Rose feeling?”

“Better. But her mom can’t seem to shake the bug. She’s staying with her till she feels better.”

We talked about my childhood. The good parts of it.

It wasn’t until I left that I tried to remember when I’d told him Rose was sick.

#

I held a book in my hand. Thursday’s weekend assignment, a dream journal. I fidgeted nervously. I didn’t remember my dreams. In fact, everything was a blank slate from the time I closed my eyes to waking on the floor.

“You look concerned,” Dr. Solo said, looking down at me. 

“The Soma is working well.” 

He’d finally told me the name yesterday. I’d tried looking it up, but couldn’t find anything on it. I would have asked Rose’s mom, a doctor, but she had been admitted to the hospital. Rose attended classes still, but always went home to watch the dogs and be closer to her mom.

“We need to talk about your mother.”

The journal in my hand fell. He bent down and picked it up for me. “Rey, I know you’ve been avoiding this talk, but it could be very pertinent to the incident.”

“She wasn’t crazy.”

“I don’t use that word in this office,” he said. “How did she die?”

“Could we talk about this later?”

He drummed his fingers against his tie, drawing my attention to it. “Let’s try an exercise. Two good questions and a hard one.”

I wasn’t sure if it would make me talk, but I shrugged noncommittally.

He took it as a yes. “What is your favorite memory of her?” 

He didn’t sit down but went to the office window, looking outside. The distance helped. I didn’t have to meet his gaze. I could just reflect.

“She made cookies and let me pour the chocolate chips in. I think she put maple syrup in the batter. But we used to bake all day.”

“Why did she name you Rey?”

“She told me I was the first good thing in her life. Called me her Rey of sunshine.” I smiled, remembering her singing to me. Those were the good days.

“What was her diagnosis?”

“Schizophrenia.” 

The answer slid off my tongue before I realized it was one of the hard questions.

“Where did you live?”

“On the coast, in Oregon. We lived next to the beach and would walk it every day.”

“Did you pick up seashells?”

“She told me mermaids whispered through them.”

“Did she ever scare you?”

“When she stopped taking the medication. She would cry a lot. Or bake a lot. Sometimes she’d think people were after her and we’d move.”

“You loved her?”

I looked at my dream journal, which was black with three gold birds stenciled in flight. I traced their outline with my finger.

“You miss her?”

The journal blurred as hot tears stung my eyes.

“How did she die?”

“Suicide.”

My head bowed. Tears peppered my journal, but I didn’t wipe them. I heard him approach. 

“I’m not saying you have her disorder. Or that you are mentally ill. But if a perpetrator cannot be found, we will need to consider your mother’s history.”

#

I was ten minutes late to my Tuesday appointment. I’d had a date. One that had happened by happenstance. Finn, one of the guys in my statistics class, had accidentally spilled coffee on me. We talked afterward, and he’d blurted out how he was going to see a new action movie.

Normally I never date, but he’d been so sweet, and he was a beta. We’d watched the movie, talked at a diner, and then he’d invited me to his apartment. I figured missing one night of Soma wouldn’t be so bad. Plus, maybe I’d have something to write in the dream journal that had remained empty all weekend.

My lateness occurred because I had forgotten my jacket at Finn’s house, and had to drop by to pick it up. I’d had to extract myself from Finn’s arms, telling him I’d be back after my appointment. 

When I approached the steps the door swung open, and a very angry Dr. Solo stood on the threshold, looking at me.

“This appointment isn’t scheduled at _your_ leisure.” He blocked the door. “I’m making heavy allowances for you. 

“Sorry.” I tried to meet his gaze, but it was so intense that I couldn’t hold it. Usually I never break eye contact, but it was such an alpha posture and such an admonishing look, I dropped my eyes to stare at my feet. For a long minute, he didn’t speak.

“Let’s not have a repeat.” 

His voice sounded strained, as if he was holding back. I followed him silently into the study. He opened the door, and when I walked past him I saw his face darken. But the look was gone, and it had been replaced by cold indifference. When I sat on the couch, he sat behind the desk. I felt punished, as if he wasn’t ready to forgive me.

“Let me see the journal.” He glanced at my purse. It wasn’t big enough to hold it. 

_Shit_. I rubbed my hands together. He tapped the desk hard for a minute, letting me know he wasn’t happy I’d forgotten.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asked, but there was an edge to it, and I instantly felt the need to hide my night at Finn’s. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

I had, kind of. I had woken early in Finn’s bed, searching. Finn had thought I was looking for round two. But the need had felt more primal. I was searching for someone who wasn’t there. I’d pretended he was right and let him roll over on me. Part of me had felt disengaged from the act. I participated, but felt no enjoyment.

Dr. Solo didn’t say anything. Instead, he took off his gloves. I stared, not sure why the sudden change made me so nervous.

“I would advise against having a boyfriend right now. It might impede your progress.”

“He wasn’t—” I stopped when he looked at me sharply. “Just a date.” 

“Have you ever been hypnotized?” 

“Hypnotized?” I furrowed my brow at the whiplash change in conversation. “No.”

“It’s standard. Often used to help patients work through repressed trauma.” He paused. “It may help us determine whether Kylo exists or not.”

“Okay.” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice. “How does it work?”

“I’m going to talk to you. Calmly. I want you to relax.” He moved the chair so it was closer to me. “Skin to skin contact can help. Would you be willing to try?”

He held his palms flat out. I saw the wedding ring on his finger. This was professional, I reminded myself. If he was on my side, he could convince the police to take me seriously. I placed my hands in his.

When our fingers touched, my stomach clenched. It felt like I had touched an electric fence. I jerked my hands back, shocked even by my own reaction.

“Sorry.”

He withdrew his hands. “Let’s try again next session. This time, I would like to use something else that will allow me to help you. It’s a tea.” 

His long fingers rubbed his jaw. Now that I could see them, I stared. They reminded me of the ones I’d felt around my throat that night. How easily could one of his hands wrap around my neck? I shivered. When he noticed, his lips quirked down.

“Tea?” I said, not wanting to tempt his ire again. “Does it have something in it?”

“Natural organic compounds. Controversial. But the spices would relax you. Allow me to get fully into your psyche.”

I’d never done drugs. “I don’t know…”

“There’s nothing to fear. It’s controversial because it can be used to sway people's memories, create false ones. But if done right, ethically, it can be therapeutic. I’ve done this over the years and had great breakthroughs with patients.”

“If you're sure…”

“Why don’t we cut today's session short? Also, break your Soma pill in half tonight. Now that you’re fully rested, let’s see if you still need the strongest dose.” He stood up and walked back to the desk, putting his gloves back on. “Perhaps tonight you’ll be able to write down your first dream.” 

#

Something was wrong.

My eyes tried to make out shapes in the darkness. 

I’d slept over at Finn’s, and in the barely illuminated room I searched for him. 

I was surrounded by furs. Bear, wolf, fox—all predators. The arrangement perplexed me until it struck me what this was. I was in the middle of a nest. It was piled high enough that I couldn’t peer over it.

Light flickered from the floor, the dancing motion of lit candles. I tried to sit up. A bearskin moved. I realized too late that it was a person. Arms reached out and wrestled me down. 

A cloth was shoved in my mouth. I felt the bite of cuffs on my wrists. _No. Not again_. Next would come the pinch of the needle.

I didn’t feel it. Instead, the man in the bearskin dragged me close. I struggled, but it was no use.

He pinched my nipples roughly, making me groan into my gag, before throwing me on my back. I couldn’t see his face, just the bear. His nose and jaw painted black, his chest broad. I saw my bite mark on his neck and shook my head violently. 

Kylo.

He smiled. White teeth and red gums.

The room swam, and for an instant he transformed into the bear. Then he was Kylo. Then the bear. I closed my eyes, unable to keep watching.

Large hands parted my thighs and I struggled again, but in my weakened state, it didn’t take long before I was exhausted. He dipped low and I didn’t understand until his mouth was hot on my clit. When I bucked this time, he held tight. 

His tongue darted around it, then swiped down, delving inside. I fought the sensation. Fought until my body quivered, unable to resist anymore. He took me. The build-up was sudden. Soon I pressed against him, unable to stand the pent-up pressure.

But as soon as I was on the brink of climax, he flipped me onto my stomach. His hands cupped my ass cheeks, digging in. The slaps came fast and hard. I begged him to stop, but the gag muffled it all. He kept it up until I was sobbing into the cloth.

Once again, I was on my back and his tongue was inside me. I shook my head back and forth, pleading with him to stop, but he built me up again. Slow and steady until my body was sheened with sweat, the pleasure hardly compensating for the torture of being kept on the edge.

I screamed when he flipped me back onto my stomach, understanding then that I was being punished for Finn. He must have found out. Another round of swats. I could barely whimper. When he rolled me onto my back again, the gag came out.

One large hand clawed around my throat, waiting.

“I’m sorry, alpha. Kylo. Please.”

A rumble, deep in his chest. This close to him, across our half-made bond, I could feel his rage. What he wanted to do to Finn. What he _would_ do to Finn.

“Please. He didn’t know. Kylo, please. I won’t do it again. I swear. Please.”

He needed more. I’d claimed him, then I’d betrayed him. “I didn’t feel any pleasure from him. None. I wanted you. It was a mistake. He couldn’t fulfill me. Couldn’t make me come.”

The bear loomed tall over me. 

“I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”

I opened my legs. I told myself it was to save Finn. To save myself. But when he entered me, I felt relief of a different kind. Completion. I was wet for him and he filled me. Not in rut; he wouldn’t knot, but it didn’t matter. He grasped my hips, controlling every part of it. 

I felt my climax come. He let go of my hips and one hand moved to my throat, squeezing.

I fought for air as he pushed me over the edge. The combination made me stop caring, and I floated as if I didn’t exist. The pleasure was so intense it snowed my brain, before the darkness sucked me in.

#

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

I jerked awake. 

Finn stood by the bed. He was dressed for his job at Starbucks, holding a brown bag and coffee. I rubbed my eyes, looking around frantically. When he saw my fear, he set the coffee and bag down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Kylo?”

“Who?”

His concern turned into confusion.

“He was here. There were furs. I made him angry and…”

“Must have been one hell of a dream.” He gave a weak smile. “Come on, drink some coffee. You’ll feel better.”

“No. I have to go. He’ll hurt you.”

At my words, Finn rubbed the back of his head. “Hey, you know what? Maybe you should go. I, um...gotta get ready for work, and you probably have class.”

I tried to move out of bed and felt sore. 

That was real. 

I winced standing up.

“Sorry. Listen, I’ve never spanked a girl before. I guess we got carried away last night.”

I turned on him. “What?”

“We—You asked me to spank you.”

“I did not.”

The expression on Finn’s face looked like he’d been slapped. “Are you going to tell the cops I did it on purpose? You asked me to do it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Great. This is great. Black man hitting a white woman.”

“No, Finn. It wasn’t you.” I tried to grab his arm. “Kylo. Kylo was here.”

He backed away.

“You are crazy. You need to get out. Like right now.”

“Finn. Please.”

“Get some help. But get the fuck out before _I_ call the cops.” When I froze, he grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the door, grabbing my clothes with his other hand. “Now.”

He shoved my shirt and jeans at my chest. I fumbled to put them on quickly, running away without looking back.

My heart pounded.

What was wrong with me?

I took out my phone. Almost ready to dial the police. Remembering Finn’s words. _What was going on?_ Instead I scrolled down to another number. Dialing it, I waited. He picked up on the second ring.

“Dr. Ben Solo.”

“It’s me, Rey,” I said, my voice cracking.

“Are you alright? I have a client arriving soon.”

“I—I saw Kylo again.”

There was silence on the phone. Finally, he asked, “Have you called the police?”

I shook my head and realized he couldn’t see it. “No. I was with Finn. A guy. Not a boyfriend. It felt real. All of it. But—” I glanced around the empty street. “It couldn’t have happened. And Finn said I asked him to do something I don’t remember.”

“I’m glad you called me first. I can’t meet you at the office, but I’ll cancel my appointment and meet you at a public location.” He paused, and I heard static on the other end. “Coffee shop on 4th and Tudor?”

That was a block away. They served beverages with tables outside. I nodded, then remembered to say yes. 

“See you in ten,” he said and hung up.

#

I drank my white mocha while he waited for his tea to steep. Same suit. I decided it must be some weird tic of his. Whatever, there were worse things in the world than a shrink who only wore one designer outfit.

“Soma is new. But I don’t think it can be blamed for everything,” he said, regarding me. 

I’m sure I looked like a hot mess with my rumpled hair and wrinkled shirt. The cafe was in peak hours, and half the outdoor tables were filled. I’d kept my voice down as I told him about the vivid dream. He’d not batted an eye through the entire thing.

“The mind is a powerful thing, Rey,” he said, tapping the top of his cup absently. “You said it yourself, it was impossible for Kylo to have visited you. Yet clearly you felt assaulted.”

“If he wasn’t real, what does that mean for me?”

He didn’t need to dissect the question; he knew what I was asking.

“You attacked those alphas at the party. You were strong, defiant, in control. But when you went home, you were attacked by an alpha. You went into heat.”

I nodded.

“Being in heat allowed you to accept the alpha. To be an omega without guilt. Freedom. You reveled in it. There is nothing wrong with this. It allowed you to express yourself. To be free of the constraints of wrong and right.”

“You think I made him up?”

“If you did, I would not judge you. Such a creation from your mind would be powerful. You had a terrible childhood, repressing rage for so long. You’ve finally given it an outlet. That is why the bite happened in reverse. You accepted your creation. Made it a part of yourself.”

“And last night?” I asked, my hand trembling as I tried to bring the drink to my lips. 

“Conflict. You said Kylo didn’t talk. You talked for him. You found no pleasure with this beta, Finn?”

“He was nice,” I hedged. I looked away, noticing a couple who were showing each other something funny on their phones. “But no, sexually, not a thing.”

“In the absence of evidence, we must start accepting truths,” Dr. Solo said. “You were escaping into a relationship, one detrimental to who you are. Perhaps this created enough of a catalyst to bring him back…”

“Kylo is in my head, isn’t he?” I shuddered. 

“And that makes him real,” Dr. Solo said, picking up his tea. “It doesn’t make you crazy. You are not your mother.”

“How do I get rid of him?”

Dr. Solo smiled, taking a sip.

“You cannot bury this monster. He’ll return again and again.”

“Then what?”

“Accept him. With my help. For now. Until we take off his mask.”

“And if I do that?”

“He’ll be your monster. Forever.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments and kudos. They mean a lot. I hope you enjoyed the short story. I'm hoping to add one or two a month. 
> 
> Tags to be added. Small character death and a bit Hannibalish. But brief and not bloody or violent. So you'll either catch it or you'll be blissfully happy you didn't. LoL

“The tea should start working soon,” Kylo said, checking his Rolex.

I took a controlled breath, trying to pretend I wasn’t scared.

For our Thursday appointment we’d gone upstairs. I was in a guest bedroom. He’d opened the door to his bedroom and told his wife not to disturb us. I hadn’t seen her, but she was right next door, which made me feel comfortable with the arrangement.

If I woke up early enough, I could meet Mrs. Solo in the morning. I didn’t have class and I’d brought my schoolwork for the weekend. 

His gloves were on, but as I rested he took them off slowly, setting them by the bed. He pulled up a chair and took the same pose he had downstairs in the study.

I felt warm. 

“Feeling it?”

I nodded.

“I want you to tell me what your dorm room looks like.” His voice was low. Calm. “Take me to it.”

“It's small.”

“Describe it.”

“Walls are white. Rose covered them in motivational posters.” The room around me started to blur. “Um…” 

“It’s okay. Trust me. Keep going.”

“Two beds. Rose’s mom is rich so we have a private room. Most have to share. We even have our own bathroom.”

I turned my head. My dorm built itself around me like a puzzle. I could see my wall posters, my desk and computer, even the gray dresser I kept my clothes in. I stared in wonder. “Wow.”

“You said the attack happened at night.” His voice sounded far away. 

“Yes.” The room started to dim. I shivered.

“Why don’t you keep the light on?”

The room grew bright.

“I’m going to hold your hand now, don’t be scared.”

I felt the warmth of his hand in mine. This time it felt okay. I squeezed it and felt him thread his fingers through my own.

“I want you to ask Kylo to join us.”

“Will he hurt me?”

“Not while I’m here.”

I held him tight. Afraid. I saw my wall turn black. It bubbled. A hand reached out. Then an arm. It clawed, gaining a grip, the body taking form as it pulled itself out. I could see the scraggly hair, but the body shimmered with veins of red as they rippled across it, pulsing. The skin gave off smoke as if it was burning. Pinpoint eyes glowed as the head snaked up to cast its gaze on me.

“Is he here?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Does he have a face?”

“No. Not really.”

“Call him by his name. His full name.”

The body emerged, reminding me of birth. It stood, waiting, its hands clawlike at its sides. 

I took a deep breath, waiting for it to attack me, but it didn’t. Ben was here. I was safe. This monster was a figment of my imagination. One that I had given unspeakable power to. I needed to take it back. To control it.

I said his name, but not in a fearful whisper. I summoned him.

“Kylo Ren.”

The monster approached. His movements were jumpy.

“This is your room, Rey. Tell him what you need.” Ben’s voice sounded hoarse. The drugs must have been distorting it.

I studied him. He was so close I could touch him. I opened my mouth to tell him to go away, but instead of anger and rage, I felt love across our bond. So much of it. The kind I’d felt from my mother. On his neck was my bite mark, a crystal blue that sparkled like a diamond in sunlight.

“I claimed you,” I told my monster.

The creature nodded.

I held my arms out to him, letting go of Ben’s hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I whispered. The emotions were so strong. Pride, hope, adoration. “I thought you were my enemy.”

“Never.” 

The creature hadn’t spoken, but I heard the words.

Ben was gone. 

The monster bent down, his skin starting to crack. Pink skin underneath. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.

#

We ate breakfast together the next morning.

“My wife made a casserole.” He pulled the dish out of the oven. 

“Wish I could have met her,” I said, sniffing, smelling peppers

I’d missed his wife; she’d already left for work. I was alone with Ben

“Next time.” He smiled, setting it on the counter. “You made quite a breakthrough.”

“Thanks.” The word “hardly” might have been more appropriate, but his eyes met mine, and he nodded. I didn’t have to say more; he knew.

The moment ended and he leaned back against the counter, his fingers playing with the knot of his tie. “I know you’re hoping to head home, but I have an odd request. Please don’t think you need to say yes.”

“Oh,” I said. There was orange juice on the table and I grabbed it. 

“My wife and I need to go out of town, we’d already planned to take next week off. Her father has taken ill. Sad business. But we need to leave this evening. You're already set up in the guest bedroom—would you mind house-sitting?”

I sloshed a bit of orange juice. Setting the glass down, I grabbed a napkin and dabbed it quickly. “You sure? I mean, you barely know me.”

“Our usual house-sitter, our secretary, is unavailable. I’ll probably have to replace her when I get back. She retired, quite suddenly.” He smiled as if something about that was funny. 

He grabbed a spatula, giving me his back. “If you accept, I’ll give you the key.”

“Sure.” I could hardly say no; he’d kept me from failing out of college.

“Splendid. Now, a few things. I’ll have you cut your sleeping pill in half, I’d like to wean you off soon. Please write in your journal. If your phone has a camera, you can text me photos of your entries.” 

“Okay, sure.” I thought it would be nice to stay someplace other than the dorm. No doubt Finn would tell everyone on campus what a gigantic freak I was, isolating me more.

“Wonderful.” He pulled out a plate, dishing me up. “Before I leave town, would you like for me to accompany you to the police station?”

He set the food in front of me. It dripped cheese. I rarely ate homecooked meals.

“Police?”

“They need to know this isn’t an active case.”

“Right,” I said, quietly. The idea of telling the police I had hallucinated the encounter made my appetite vanish.

“You just need to retract your statement. You don’t need to go into detail. As busy as the police force is, I doubt they’ll question you further.”

“I guess.” I cut a bite. “You think I’ll be okay now?”

“You’ve met your monster. Accepted him. There is nowhere to go but forward. When I return, it will be time for our therapy to end.”

“That quick?” I took a bite. It had sausage in it. The meat tasted gamey. 

“You’ve been a model patient,” he said. After a minute he joined me, but didn’t dish up. 

He pulled out a phone, scrolling through it while I ate, every once in a while hitting a button. When I finished, he offered me more. I refused, but I hated cooking, so I’d probably eat it all week.

He winked, taking my empty plate. “Hope it gave you a bit of pleasure in the end.”

Must have been an English saying. “Um…Yeah, it was good.”

He whistled as he did the dishes and I finished my orange juice.

#

Dr. Solo didn’t go in with me to the police station. An emergency appointment with a client had come up. It was okay, he said he would come in if they gave me any problems. However, the detective I talked to kept checking his iPhone. I think he and his wife were fighting, and when I finished giving my speech about how my college stress had caused a mini breakdown, he all but waved me off.

It was over.

I stopped at my place and grabbed my stuff. I included my running shoes. I’d been so afraid that my attacker would find me alone on a trail, I’d given up my morning jog. Now, I promised to go out every morning and enjoy my life again.

Rose's phone kept going to voicemail, but I figured with her mom, she was probably keeping it turned off.

#

The weekend started well. I slept deeply, my dreams vivid. I jotted them down. The house was quiet. There was a living room with a TV. I never ventured anywhere else. Afraid to touch things. I found a picture of an older man with glasses next to a pretty middle-aged woman with blue eyes and a hat. The photo had been tucked under a book I’d grabbed to read. Maybe it was Dr. Solo’s parents. The house was devoid of photos. Could it be for safety? I’m sure he received all types of patients. I didn’t go into their bedroom. Dr. Solo hadn’t said it was off limits, but it felt too personal.

He texted me only once the first night, asking if all was well.

But the next night, my phone buzzed steadily. 

All professional. At least, they sounded professional. He asked how I’d slept. If I needed anything. If I had remembered to lock the house. When I told him I was running, he asked about the trails in a roundabout way. He asked if I could text when I woke up, to make sure I was sleeping well. He asked me to text him at night when I went to bed.

My dreams over the weekend were barely anything to write about. I dreamed in snapshots. My mother mostly. Kylo holding me. I’d talk to him in my dreams sometimes, but I could never remember what I’d said. The Soma, for the most part, took my memory. I woke rested, and that was what mattered.

During school, nothing happened. Finn wasn’t in my statistics class on Monday. No one bothered me; most had moved on to other things.

The week petered out. 

#

I lay in bed. It was my last night at the house. I kind of liked it here. I’d miss it. Dr. Solo hadn’t texted me at all. I checked my cell phone. I would kind of miss him, too.

I realized too late I was a pill short. A mistake on his part, but I didn’t think I needed them. I pulled the covers under my chin and listened to music until I fell asleep.

A sharp pain in my shoulder woke me.

I turned my head, but the room was black as pitch.

I rubbed my shoulder, the spot tender. The skin felt slightly raised. _Spider?_

The covers had come down and I pulled them back up, snuggling deeper into my pillow, too tired to turn the light on and look.

#

I didn’t question the dream.

Vivid dreams were not new and this one wasn’t scary.

Dr. Solo lay on the bed with me. I knew it was a dream because I couldn’t feel my body. I thought the lights were on, but it was daytime, and sunlight streamed in through the windows. I smiled and he smiled back.

“You are quite beautiful,” he said. 

There was no accent. I liked him better without it. His glasses were gone, and he’d lost that awful suit. He was bare chested. Without the suit, I realized I had never noticed how attractive he was. 

“So are you.” I rubbed my pillow, liking how the fabric felt on my cheek. “Rose’s mom said you were an old man with glasses.”

“I bet she did.” He turned on his side. “The cyanide will probably give her some terrible bowel issues, but she’ll recover.”

“You made her sick?” I whispered as if we were telling secrets.

“And Rose too. But she didn’t drink all her cocoa, naughty girl. I stole her phone. I figured it was better than having to kill her.”

“I wouldn’t have liked you if you did that.” When I lifted my hand, it felt like I floated with it. I watched it, amazed. Colors followed my fingers as I waved them in the air. “Prisms. My hand is a prism.”

“I’ve enjoyed hunting you.” He watched me play for a minute before finally bringing my hand down so I would look at him. “All the other omegas lost my interest quickly, but you demanded I claim you.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. Sorry I left you. But I had to clean your dorm, send e-mails to your teachers, and make it look like you’re headed to New York, in case anyone tries looking for you.”

“That’s a lot of work,” I said. I felt sorry for him.

“I just cleaned this house. I’ve been so careful not to leave prints. When Dr. Obi comes back from Japan, he’ll find we’ve left it in such good order.” He sighed, kissing my forehead. “Though his secretary, sadly, couldn’t be spared.”

“She retired?”

“She played bingo every Tuesday and Thursday, leaving the house alone. I didn’t want Dr. Obi to be suspicious if she stopped calling. But sadly, I needed you here this week.” 

“Where is she?”

“Still here, dead, I’m afraid.” When he saw I was going to cry, he shushed me. “No torture, she didn’t even feel pain. Just a nice old lady who accidentally took too much of her insulin. Dr. Obi and his wife will find her in this bed tomorrow evening. I’ve kept her in the attic. Nasty smell.”

I shivered, imagining it. 

For a while, I looked at his face. He had so many freckles and beauty marks. I traced them with my fingers. “I thought you were a really nice psychiatrist.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll put this in my journal tomorrow.” I glanced at my nightstand where I had left it, and found it empty.

“Sorry.” He tilted my face back towards him. “I had to have something with all your prints on it. Your writing. All the entries will stay in. The last one, I had to write. You wrote about the trip you were taking, how you were leaving it all behind, school, your friends.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you don’t want to worry anyone when you leave. Rose will take comfort, knowing you're safe. Maybe one day, when I can trust you, you can see her again.”

“You can trust me.”

“I will.” He kissed my knuckles. “Tomorrow will be our last session.”

He’d moved close enough that our noses almost touched. I really wanted to travel, but being broke and in school, I could barely get out of the city.

“Can we go to Seattle? No, Florida...Wait, I want to go to see the Golden Gate Bridge!”

“We’ll travel so many places.” 

“You’re married.”

I yawned.

“Small lie. Sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have seen you if I’d known that.”

“I know.”

He touched my cheek, stroking it softly.

“I’ll miss this. But deception only works for so long.”

“Don’t lie to me again.”

I snuggled against his chest.

“Tomorrow, when you see me. It’ll trigger this memory.”

“I’ll forget?”

“Yes. For a little while. But soon I’m going to let you remember.”

“How?”

“Hypnosis. When I touch my tie tomorrow—” He tapped his forehead and then mine, making a _boom_ sound with his mouth. “You’ll remember everything.”

“No way.”

“Hypnosis.”

“I don’t believe you.” I giggled.

“I’ve been wearing the same suit, just for you.” Gently, his fingers brushed a flyaway hair from my face. “Put that one in early. You associate it with me. Ben Solo is the man in the black suit with the red shirt and the black tie. The man you can trust. He’s safe. It’s kept you from recognizing me. Before I left you, that first night, I made sure you would accept this persona. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it. The plan came when you applied for therapy. Brilliant, really. My first plan was just to abduct you. This was so much better.”

“You put all that in my brain?”

“Alpha voices are really powerful under hypnosis. Worked on you, worked on Finn.”

“Finn?”

“Couldn’t forgive that, sorry, love,” he admonished lightly. “But I found a way to work through it. I think one of these days you’ll figure it out.”

I glanced out the windows. It was dark. How odd. When did it get dark?

“Ben?”

“Yes.”

“Will I be scared tomorrow?”

“Very much.”

The thought made me sad, but I didn’t know why. I needed to make him understand. I wanted to be with him, because we were tied, somehow, together. I couldn’t make the words work, so I gave up after only one sentence:

“Don’t hurt me.”

“I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

I snuggled into my pillow.

“I love you, Rey.” 

He kissed my lips.

“I think I love you,” I said in a half-yawn. “Ben…”

“Mhm?”

“See you tomorrow.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art Commissioned by Christina Pongetti. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the art piece. After I've finished my latest short story, I will start on the sequel to this.


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